Americana's Journal, Day 1: Past
by WriterRebel212
Summary: The truth behind my personal hero's life and how she became who she is today: my role model, hero, and best friend.


**NOTE: everything you will read is a true testament of the hero i, (WriterRebel221), know and love, and how she became who she is today. She is my best friend and role model, and though she isn't like other heroes, she is a hero to me. Hopefully she can inspire you too. Peace Rebels! (also, soooooo sorry for not writing, i've been busy with other projects .'))**

I've been told all my life that being a hero was only something that i'd see in comic books, never on the streets of LA. They told me that heroes fought on the battlefield, and not with powers but with guns. They were right, in a sense, when they said that. Superheroes don't exist in the way we see them on the big screen. However, they were also very wrong.

Heroes exist, with powers unlike what we see in all the ones on screen, and they protect just as valuable things as those on the battlefield. Ever since I was a little girl, before I started writing, or looking for potential jobs for my life, I knew I wanted to be a hero. That was when I was a kid. When I would look up at the screen or in my books, at the faces and sheer determination of these people, who would sacrifice their lives for the citizens of their city. Or when I would see the hundreds of thousands or people living on the street being helped by the one person who dared to break the horrible standard we privileged live by. For those who read this entry, (and hopefully many more) Maybe this can inspire you to break down those walls too.

When I was a teen it became harder. After switching schools for the fifth time, and having my church close down (along with never seeing most of those people again), My morals became muddled, and turned "black" as I began to lose sight of what I stood for.

As an almost adult, i still don't know most of the time.

I started out freshmen year with a sour outlook on life, having just been taken away from my childhood home of 14 years, and let's just say I wasn't the most enthusiastic person in the world. It was hard, and I fought with my mom a lot, finally compromising after I joined the swim team. Things only got worse when my dad left for a job in Ohio of all places. I definitely wasn't feeling the most heroic at that time. Over the course of freshmen year, I fell into this place i could only describe as a dark, gooey, icky pit where all my teenage thoughts ranged from pleasuring myself in secret to trying not to cry as the voices in my head (that weren't my own) whispered thoughts of running away and how I could kill myself. What scared me the most was that I didn't think of myself as depressed, to rephrase, I didn't think i was allowed to, because my life overall had been better than those you hear where there's abuse or drunkenness, or even sickness and divorce. My parents aren't separated, my dad just really needed work, and the only job he could find was one on the other side of the country.

I sought advice from a trusted friend, but talking about depression is a awry topic to begin with, and the conversation didn't end as well as I'd hoped, leaving my feeling more confused than I'd already felt. After that I didn't tell anyone else, because i didn't think anyone would care. Sure I would make a mention to the friend I had known since I was a toddler, but nothing personal. It wasn't till my 15th birthday that I made a choice.

This might be a bit personal, but I was "playing with myself" when all of a sudden it hit my in the back of the head. I stood up, washed myself off and walked over to my mirror, punching my reflection with as much fury as i could, even giving myself a nice hard whack to the head. I pointed to the mirror and looked myself in the eye, saying: "what are you doing? How in hell did you even get here? You are better than this, and you need to grow up!" An then I made a decision: "This I Promise, that until it becomes a habit, I will not touch myself, I will not watch bad things, and I will forgive myself for ever trying to hide my depression."

And so I did. And that was only the start.

Of course there were "human" moments that occurred. I caught myself pleasuring myself here and there, and I always felt a feeling of regret that I had never felt before because I knew I was breaking a promise. Heck, I still have problems, but that only proves that i'm not perfect, and that i'm only human on the outside. Yet there were upsides to my decision. My depression lessened within the first month of the promise. I talked more openly in classes, and cared less what others thought of my appearance, opinions, and choices.

To be completely honest, I felt sexy and secretive. The walls I had built fell and were rebuilt with my morals instead of my fears and it was best feeling in the world.

Of course, every hero in training has her demons...

but I'll save that for another entry!

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 **NOTE: Thanks for reading! More on the way! Feel free to ask questions!**


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